Posted tagged ‘Snow’

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“Snow and adolescence are the only problems that disappear if you ignore them long enough.”

December 30, 2012

The snow started around 11 last night. The flakes were big and wet, the sort that doesn’t seem to have much future. I went to bed really late, around 2, and was awakened not long after by the beep beep of a plow backing up. By then I think there were only a couple of inches. Sometime during the night rain mixed with the snow. This morning I expected a winter wonderland; instead, the snow is pockmarked, crusty and hard. I had to beat the snow to get it off the back window and the trunk so I could bring in the dried dog food. The weatherman says sun later. It’ll take a lot of sun to melt the crusty snow still on my car windshield.

This first storm of the season was a bust though I suspect if it weren’t I’d be complaining about shoveling and extracting my car from behind the tall heaps left by the plow. I think I can just drive my car over the small mound in front of it. I know I don’t need to shovel as I walked out and got the papers without a problem. Looking out the front door is keeping Gracie entertained. My neighbor across the street is shoveling his driveway, a quick, easy task with so little snow. He just pushes his shovel down to the end then back up the driveway again. Voila! The driveway is cleared.

Birds have been swooping in and out of the feeders all morning. A couple have tried to drink from the bird bath, but it is frozen. I’ll have to go down to the cellar later to find the heater. Yesterday I filled every single feeder and put out the new ones I got for Christmas. The birds should be pleased with the variety and the plenty.

Yesterday I really didn’t do a whole lot. I finished The Panther by Nelson DeMille. I liked it enough, but 900 pages was daunting as the book didn’t read as quickly as the other DeMille’s I’ve enjoyed. I started a new book, Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore. My iBook is filled with lots of books to read so I’m happy! Winter is a great time to stay comfy curled up with a book; of course, summer on the deck is also a great time for reading. The breeze is cooling and a good book is enthralling. Then again, we can’t forget spring or fall. each of those seasons lend themselves to reading as well.

Categories: Musings
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Comments: 28 Comments

“Between Ennui and Ecstasy unwinds our whole experience of time.”

December 29, 2012

Today is raw which was always my mother’s description for damp and cold. The sky is that grey-white color which means rain or snow or, in our case, a bit of both. The snow will start off-Cape tonight while we’ll get rain then the tail end of the snow storm will hit us and bring maybe an inch or two or even up to four.

I’m not going anywhere today. The outside world doesn’t look all that inviting. I do have to fill a couple of feeders, and I’ll put the new one out and maybe fold and bring up the clothes in the dryer but that last one is a long shot.

When I sit down to write Coffee, I am often at a loss as to what to say. Day-to-day, or at least my day-to-day, is so consistent it lends itself to ennui, to boredom. Didn’t she just write about that I imagine you’re thinking as you read about Gracie and the weather. Other days my mind is filled with all sorts of neat stuff. Some of it is imaginative, and it grows out of daydreaming or a TV program or a book I’m reading, and I share even though you might think it borders on the crazy, the very weird. Memories often fill my mind triggered by something I saw or even smelled. You have all been to Ghana with me so many times I wonder if you groan and say, “Not Ghana again!” On my sloth days you already know that I’ll be doing nothing except reading and eating the proverbial bon bons.

What brought all this on? Well, one of the blogs I have been reading for years, Letters from a Hill Farm, is closing down. Nan has decided, “To live my life without writing about my life.” That got me thinking. I have been writing Coffee since 2004, the year I retired. I wrote every day for several years then I started taking Wednesdays off, a sort of mid-week breather. After my coffee and papers every morning, I sit in front of the computer hoping I have something to say, something you’ll enjoy or remember or something you can relate to. Where am I going with this? Not away as I really like writing and I love my Coffee family. I just want to be reassured that on days like today when I have nothing to say you’ll still listen.

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“Snow falling soundlessly in the middle of the night will always fill my heart with sweet clarity”

November 24, 2012

Okay, I will not bore you with today’s weather report. Just think of the last several days. To add to the misery, it’s damp and chilly, and I just put my second load in the washing machine. Even I couldn’t take another day walking around the laundry bag by the cellar door.

When I was a kid, I didn’t really care much about the weather except when it snowed. The first one of us to notice falling flakes would yell “Snow!” and the rest of us would run and jostle each other for the center spot at the picture window, the best vantage point for snow watching. I can still remember the excitement a snow storm would bring and how at night the snow flakes glittered when they fell below the street light. We’d watch then keep going back to the window to keep track of the amount of snow as those flakes carried all our hopes of mounting inches and no school.

When I got older, snow was far less welcomed. It meant shoveling the walk and getting the car free of the mounds of snow left in front of it by the plow. I begrudged snow days as each one meant going deeper into June before school was out for the summer. Snow was an inconvenience.

Snow and I are on far better terms now that I’m retired. There is no hurry getting the car loose as I have nowhere to go. Let the school extend forever. It doesn’t affect me at all. Skip, my factotum, is also my plow guy. He comes and shovels the walk, gets my car loose and shovels the back steps for Gracie so she can get into the yard. Sometimes he doesn’t come until late as he also does the library and several other houses. I don’t care just as long as he comes.

Even in my anti-snow period, I loved watching the snow fall, still do. I always turn on my back light and leave the inside door open so I can stand there and watch the flakes as they glimmer and shine in the light. I figure there aren’t many things as beautiful as a snow flake.

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“A cold wind was blowing from the north, and it made the trees rustle like living things.”

November 8, 2012

The storm started yesterday afternoon and it was tremendous. The wind blew gusts as high as 60 MPH, stronger than Sandy had brought. I could hear the relentless, howling wind. Branches and tree trunks were blowing and bending. Rain fell all night into this morning but now has just about stopped. The sky is still gray but getting lighter. The wind is still blowing but seems calm in comparison. I watched the weather at 11 last night. The Cape was the only part of the state getting rain. The rest of the state was getting snow, in a variety of amounts. We were 10˚ warmer than Boston.

My caller ID identified two calls this morning as political. The first call, before 8, woke me up. I didn’t answer that one or the second one from the same number. Later, I still a little sleuthing and found out the number has been reported repeatedly. It is not political. It is spamming. I have a feeling they’ll be persistent. If this were a plot in a futuristic science fiction novel, I’d send a tiny shock through the phones lines to the caller who’d then cross my name off the list.

Today is normally dump day, but we will wait until tomorrow unless the rain and the wind stop. The dump on a windy day is like the Russian steppes in the middle of winter. Gracie will just have to be content with a trip to Agway where she is a welcomed customer.

The bird feeders need filling so I’ll brave the elements later and go out on the deck. I noticed the furniture covers are weighted down in the middle with rainwater. They’ll have to be emptied. In the winter, those pockets of water freeze. Sometimes I lift a huge disk of ice off the cover and toss it over the deck rail. Luckily we’re not there yet.

Without the political hoopla and the anticipation of waiting to hear the results, the day is a bit humdrum. President Clinton hasn’t called again.

 

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“We don’t stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing.”

March 10, 2012

Last night I set my alarm with plenty of time for a coffee run to Dunkin’s and a hunt for the best viewing for the St. Patrick’s Day parade. When the alarm rudely woke me up, I looked out the window, saw snow, turned off the alarm and promptly went back to sleep. It’s more than a dusting but not a whole lot more. It must have been wet snow at first as the walk, driveway and street have a layer of  slush which froze a bit. I couldn’t find my newspaper then I noticed it had slid all the way down the driveway and was a lump covered with snow. Right now it is 33° and winter. The rest of the week will be in the 50’s and spring.

The sun is desperately trying to come out right now, and the warmer air is melting the snow off the roof. I can see drops falling onto the deck. My dance card is empty today so I don’t really care about the weather.

There was no cryptogram in today’s Cape paper, and I was bummed. Being a creature of habit, it is one of my morning rituals. Solving it each day means I still have some reasoning power left which gives me comfort as my memory is spotty.

The sun has just appeared. It won the battle. I’d like to think I helped!

The snow has dampened any sound and kept people inside their houses. My neighborhood is quiet. Where I grew up had hundreds of kids or at least it always seemed that way. They were everywhere, and it was seldom quiet. That was in the day when families had lots of kids. You never wanted for a playmate or a friend. The little girls played house or dolls sitting on the back steps or on the grass while the boys played any noisy game they could concoct. We older kids roller skated, rode our bikes or walked around town. Saturdays, of course, found us at the matinée. We never seemed to run out of things to do.

My neighborhood has a lot of kids now. The family down the street just had their 4th, their first girl. At another house, they had their third, another boy, a few months back. The house next door has three but one is in high school. Their youngest is almost five. The only time I see any of these kids is when they’re on a walk with one parent or the other. Other than that, they’re in their yards playing. Long gone are the days of roaming or bike riding all over town. I still go to a Saturday matinée every now and then, but the best parts are gone. Nobody throws things like JuJu Beads and not a single couple makes out in the back rows. Where’s the fun gone?

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“A great wind is blowing, and that gives you either imagination or a headache.”

March 8, 2012

The wind is so strong Gracie and I heard a crash and rushed to find the source. My umbrella had been blown down, and it banged as it hit the deck rail. Come to find out there is a wind advisory, and the winds could be as strong as 55 MPH. I decided my umbrella is probably safest where it is.

Already it is 56° which is almost tropical for this time of year. The sun is bright and the sky perfectly blue. If there were no wind, it would be a lovely deck day, but the wind is so strong the tops of the pine trees are swaying left and right. The bird feeders are swaying like carnival rides, but the birds act as if nothing is happening. The gold finches are back, and the males’ chests are brighter. Yesterday I had a house finch and today a flicker. 

I keep stopping to look out the window when I hear the wind. The wild, swooshing sound makes me feel a bit like Dorothy arriving at the house just before the tornado hit. I won’t be surprised to find my yard littered with pine branches. The pine are delicate trees.

I remember walking to or from school when it was windy. We’d face the wind, raise our arms to our sides and let the wind take us. It would go up our sleeves and make our jackets billow. I always felt as if I were flying. We’d laugh the whole time.

When I was young, the weather was rarely a topic of conversation. Snow was all we cared about as it carried the prospect of a snow day. Rain was disappointing as we couldn’t go out and play unless it was a light summer rain. After the rain, though, was always the most fun. Puddles meant slamming your foot in the water and splashing yourself and anyone near you. The wetter we got, the more fun we had. Our feet would slosh in our sneakers and bubbles would come up by our toes. We never cared. Sneakers always dried.

Adulthood has its privileges but much is lost. Puddles are to be avoided. Wet shoes and mud oozing between your toes stop being fun. I never walk bare-footed any more. Sandals are about as close as I get. I’m thinking it’s time again to feel the softness of the grass and the warmth of a puddle left by the summer rain.

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“Autumn arrives in the early morning, but spring at the close of a winter day.”

February 28, 2012

Pseudo winter is the best I can call this. Today it is already 46° though tonight will be more typically winter, in the 20’s, but I don’t care. Night always finds me cozy and warm and at home. The weatherman says snow later in the week and predicts the cape will get less than an inch before the snow turns to rain. Boston may get more snow than we will but right now it may also have a new record for the least amount of snow as little more than 7 inches has fallen so far this whole winter, but March sometimes surprises us with a snow storm or two.

My garden is awash with green shoots, and the daffodil buds are prominent: there are four now. Last fall I planted all sorts of bulbs, and I don’t remember what is where on purpose. I want surprise when the flowers bloom and color returns to my garden.

Spring officially arrives on March 20th, and that is cause for celebration. My friends and I will go to the beach to see the sunrise on that first spring morning. Usually it is freezing. We sit in our beach chairs as if it were summer, but we wear winter hats and coats and wrap blankets around us as we wait and watch for the sky to lighten. The first beams appear then the top of the sun. We watch as more and more of the sun appears over the jetty. When morning has finally broken, we applaud and give a welcome to spring then we run for the warmth of the car. We go out for breakfast and toast the arrival of spring.

My mother was always surprised and wonderfully grateful when we gave her our bouquets, the dandelions picked off the lawn. She’d gush a bit, take our gifts and put them in a glass, usually a jelly glass, and then in the center of the table. We always thought they were the most beautiful yellow flowers ever, and I still think of that every time I see a dandelion. In my memory they are gifts.

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“Where is human nature so weak as in the bookstore?”

February 10, 2012

Today is the last of the warm days at least through the weekend. The weatherman called the weekend temperature an Arctic blast, but right now the temperatures are predicted to be in the low 20’s with some rain turning to snow and accumulating as many as 3 inches. I laughed when I reread this and saw I had written “as many” as 3 inches. That’s only a bit more than a dusting in New England or it used to be. This year we all seem to have refined our definition of Arctic and cold and snow storms. Right now it is 46°.

The Cape Times had a picture of daffodils which have already bloomed in Orleans. The article with the picture said bulges of buds are being noticed on some trees. One woman was quoted as saying this is the earliest she has ever seen daffodils.

Last night I drove home from Chatham. Though it was not even nine, the roads were almost clear of cars. I think I saw only 3 all the way from Chatham to Dennis. It reminded me of winter when I was young. In those days many people worked only summers as little work was available all winter. They let their bills pile up until they were back working, and nobody minded waiting. They knew they’d get paid. The streets were usually deserted at night. Few restaurants and only a couple of movie theaters stayed open all winter. By the day after Labor Day the Cape was a giant ghost town.

Last night as I was driving I also thought about books. Nothing is more exciting than reading a great book for the first time and nothing is worse than finishing it. When I was a kid, I took joy and pleasure in reading so many wonderful books for the first time, and I dreaded getting closer to the endings. I’d put the book down for a bit, which took every bit of fortitude I had, but then I’d give in and go back and finally finish it. I was seldom disappointed but was always a bit sad.

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“It looks like something out of Whittier’s “Snowbound,”‘ Julia said. Julia could always think of things like that to say.”

January 22, 2012

About 8 or 9 inches of snow fell yesterday. The stuff is pretty, no question about it, but pretty never lasts long enough. I got plowed out last night by my factotum but a bit more fell, mostly from the ocean effect, but because it was warmer earlier this morning, the new snow melted off the walkway, the car windshield and the roof. Icicles now hang off the roof edge. They look like teeth needing orthodontia. It’s cold, only 31°, and the sky is gray cloudy.

I’ll watch the Pats play the Ravens this afternoon. If I had tickets to the game, I’d probably give them away. I can’t imagine sitting in the stands and freezing. A warm living room, good food and a close bathroom are far more important to me. I doubt there would be enough layers to keep me warm.

Gracie’s friend Cody dropped by to visit late yesterday. Both dogs had so much pent-up energy they ran and ran chasing each other. Gracie also did her laps around the perimeter three times in a row. When she came inside, her tongue was hanging to her knees, at least to what I think are her knees.

The cape is pretty flat, but the golf course has one perfect hill for sledding. I’m betting there’s a crowd of kids there now despite the cold. Opportunities to speed down a hill are too rare to pass up. Our old wooden sleds are from a bygone era. Kids now spin their way to the bottom on flying saucers or snow tubes. My old wooden sled is standing outside my front door with skates hanging from the steering. It is one of my winter decorations. I love the way it looks and the memories it brings to mind.

I have to the dump today. On days like today the dump is freezing. The wind rushes furiously across the treeless plain. I always imagine that’s what a gulag must be like.

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“The snow doesn’t give a soft white damn whom it touches.”

January 21, 2012

“In the lane, snow is glistening,” describes the view outside my window. The snowfall is heavy, and there must be a few of inches or more already on the ground. The weather report won’t pin down the total amount but throws around words like considerable and steady all day. I was going to go to the store but changed my mind. I’ll just stay inside. The postman’s truck has already been by, and I watched his rear wheels spin a bit before he moved on to the next mailbox. I keep looking out the window and have to admit the snow is really pretty right now.

This is our first snow storm and it has been long in coming. Much as I’d like to complain, I can’t. The winter has been kind to us so I’ll hold my complaints until the next storm then I’ll let loose and do lots of muttering.

Gracie went out a few minutes ago but not into the yard. I hope the snow caused the quick trip and she didn’t decide to do her business on the deck. I tried to watch but she was in a blind spot, and I’m not about to go out and check. The stairs are steep on both sides of the deck so maybe she was a bit afraid of sliding. When Skip comes to shovel and plow, I always have him do the stairs. I also use pet friendly de-icer on the stairs so they’ll dry faster.

Even the oak trees look lovely with their branches covered in snow. The world is quiet. No one ventures onto the roads. It’s too early for the sounds of snow blowers and shovels. I saw only one bird at the feeder, a flicker, so I’m guessing my regular visitors must be huddled somewhere away from the storm. The spawns of Satan are missing. Their nests are high up in the pine trees where I figure they’re lying together to keep warm and watching the snow much the same as I’m doing.

I’ll stay cozy and warm and watch from the window. This is really winter, and I’m not a willing participant.

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